‘You,’ she said, looking up at Ferox. ‘Hold her down. She needs to be still.’

The centurion obeyed, putting one hand on the girl’s good shoulder and the other across her body. There was fear in her eyes when he loomed over her, and it made him think of Hector frightening the baby because he still had his helmet on. He smiled.

‘Lie still. Soon be over,’ he said softly, while the slave gave short, sharp instructions to Vindex. The girl shrieked, starting to shake, and he pressed down as hard as he could.

‘Good girl, good girl,’ Ferox whispered, staring into her eyes, trying to reassure. A sound of grating bone almost made him flinch and loosen his grip.

‘Now,’ the slave girl said. ‘Push!’

The scream was appalling and seemed to go on forever, the girl trying to arch her back so that it took all his strength to keep her flat and still.

Vindex let out a deep breath, and the scream faded and turned into sobs.

‘Well done,’ the slave said, brushing her mistress’ cheek. ‘Now we can go.’

Ferox eased his grip and started to lift the young woman. Vindex helped and they hauled her on to his shoulder and he set off. She was heavy for her size and he stumbled, making her yell out.

‘Quiet,’ he said as gently as he could and tried to shush her. The necklace was pressing hard against the cheek piece of his helmet. The yelling went on, very loud just next to his ear. He heard a slap and the girl went quiet.

‘Well done, Vindex,’ he said and started out across the mossy ground.

‘Wasn’t me,’ the Brigantian said.

The slave girl strode past him, her expression blank.

‘Trouble,’ Vindex warned.

Shoulder already uncomfortable from the weight pressing down, Ferox struggled to look back at the little figures high on the crest above them. An arrow arched towards them, coming straight until the wind took it and it veered away.

‘Run!’ he said, and wondered how many times he had given the same order. The ambush had started less than an hour ago, and yet it seemed as though days had passed. He lumbered on as fast as he could, at first over spongy grass, but soon each step sank into soft mud.

‘Bugger!’ Vindex was looking to the west, where four horsemen galloped towards them who were not Romans. One was leading a riderless horse, and the leader carried a long red shield. There were more riders about a quarter of a mile behind them.

An arrow stuck into the soft earth just a yard or so away from Ferox, the missile going deep so that only half of its shaft and feathers were left above the mud. They were level with the lake, its dark waters still for the breeze had gone. Splashes came up with every step, boots sinking deeper and deeper.